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Chapter 20 : Dogs in Heat
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Chapter Twenty: Dogs in Heat
Hermione sank onto the chair in her bathroom, glancing at herself in the mirror. The end of her hair was still dark from the shower, her skin glistening slightly from the water. She picked up a bottle of lotion and then thought better of it. Remus had told her it was her scent that was playing with Sirius’ mind and she had no desire to cover that up with some bottled perfume. She let her hands slide across the two gowns she had pulled from deep within her dresser, still unable to decide which would be the perfect one to complement her plan. The black one was more risqué and definitely left nothing to the imagination. The other, a vivid satiny red, was more common…like a simple slip she would wear under her ordinary clothing. The simplicity of it was what had appealed most to her but she was trying to appeal to Sirius rather than herself. She hesitated with her hand on the black one for a moment then lost her nerve and grabbed the red, pulling it on in one swift more before she could question herself yet again. Since there was no telling who might be roaming the halls of Grimmauld these days, she pulled on a weathered chenille robe to cover herself.
She padded quietly through the hall, listening for any sounds below. She paused at the bottom of the stairwell, the soft warm glow from a lamplight causing her to grow self conscious. She cinched the belt tighter around her stomach, then frowned. She hadn’t planned this all day, hadn’t strode close to Sirius all afternoon, hadn’t made sure to lean over his shoulder at every opportunity just to loose her nerve now. He was, after all, only Sirius.
“Sirius, are you going to bed?” she asked casually, entering into the front room that had become his makeshift office.
“I promised Remus I would get through these tonight,” he answered. “He said Draco failed to check in this morning,” he glanced her way, “if you care.”
“Trying to set me off again, are you?” she moved to stand beside him, her fingers rifling through the Ministry documents spread across the desk. “That’s becoming a habit of yours in the daylight.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” she fought to keep her voice even, “I know you still watch over me every night after I’m asleep.”
He nodded. “I don’t deny it. But you aren’t having nightmares anymore, are you?”
She faltered. He was being too nice, too accommodating. “No, I’m not.”
He nodded again, straightening the piles of paper without looking her way. “I’ll finish these tomorrow. Have a good night, Hermione.”
He kissed her cheek lightly but she could feel him hesitate. She wanted to lunge at him. She knew her own hormones were raging…it’s why she couldn’t get him out of her mind. And she knew the effect that must be having on him. She could almost feel him inhale her scent. But something in his demeanor, his almost weakened state, caused her plan to shatter into a million pieces. She stepped away and nodded.
“Sirius, are you still awake?” she whispered, peeking into his bedroom door.
“Yeah,” he answered, his voice notches lower than normal, as if he was dreading her appearance.
“May I come in?”
She couldn’t blame him for hesitating and when he mumbled a quick “yes” she hurried in before he could change his mind. She sank down onto the bed next to him, her eyes roaming his bare chest. It was unlike him to sleep in the nude and she couldn’t help but cringe. This would not be easy.
“We have to talk about this. If we are both going to live here, we can’t dance around the issue.”
“What issue?” he grumbled, not looking her direction.
“Sirius,” she struggled for his attention, “I knew nothing about animagi and their senses…none of us managed the transformations in school,” she explained. “But when I learned, make no mistake, my entire goal in coming to you this evening was to ravage you.”
“I would have expected no less,” he returned a brief smile. “I’ve said it before; you have the sexual appetite of a man. If you knew you could have that power over me, I had no doubt you would use it.” He took her hand in his. “That you chose not to is an amazing feat.”
“The nights not done.”
He slid a finger along the edge of her robe, tugging the fabric gently open. The silk red slip she had underneath gleamed under the lamp light, the cloth shimmering to different shades of scarlet with her movements. His fingers traced along the tiny lace edging, brushing against the tops of her breasts.
“You were determined, weren’t you?” he asked, his eyes filled with amusement.
“I tend to over plan.” She nodded. “We have to deal with this. We can’t ignore it and treat each other like crap once a month.”
“What do you suggest?” he asked, his hands still roaming along her body but his voice amazingly steady. He was managing to maintain control over his senses…he took pride in it but it infuriated Hermione.
“I suggest,” she whispered, “we take your advice.”
“Advice?” he asked, sitting up to rest his back against the headboard. He lifted her easily, moving her to straddle his waist. His strength alone caused her breath to grow heavy.
“The present is meant to be lived,” she quoted, ignoring the idiocy of their conversation. Neither cared what the other said...their minds were already on a different course and a need for mutual fulfillment.
“My advice,” he murmured, as he buried his face against the silky fabric covering her bosom, “is notoriously bad.”
He inhaled deeply, letting fingers roll across her spine as he pulled her in closer.
“What,” she asked with a bit of amusement at his actions, “exactly do I smell like anyway?”
“Peppermint and vanilla with a hint of baby lotion,” he answered easily, letting his lips brush with longing against her nipples, now pressing firmly against the fabric of her slip.
“No,” she gripped his chin, dragging him to face her, a wide grin playing on her lips. “Niceties aside. What do I smell like?”
Honesty…nothing turned him on more than honesty and his body couldn‘t help but react. The pink tinge to her flesh had spread to her face, her body warming quickly to his trivial touches and her erratic breathing told him how much she wanted him. Her breath was shallow, falling in tiny gasps as his mouth snaked across her. It was almost as if her throat had closed tight, and only with his touch could she allow herself to come up for air. He tested his theory teasingly, moving inches away only to find her gasp for breath when he finally moved his body back next to hers. It was sudden, a tiny shift in her being that caused all her many scents to meld into one and he took a deep shuddering breath.
She felt him shift beneath the sheets, and her breath caught in her throat. The tiny event--one she never would have noticed before as it had always been a mere necessity to sex—flooded her senses. The realization that her desire alone could excite him made her shiver.
“I’ll offend you,” he murmured heavily but didn’t seem too convinced of his own words. In truth, he was afraid telling her would set them on a course they couldn’t stop.
“It doesn’t matter. You‘ll still get lucky.” She sank heavily on the bed, letting her thighs slip down the sheets so that she could feel him touching her. The irritation of the sheets between their bodies caused her to grimace with frustration.
He chuckled at her desperation, leaning lazily back against the bed. He could feel her moving against him, her body sliding across his with a rhythm even he had to admire. Her lips traveled his chest in mock loving seduction, but he was unwilling to let her make the event into more than it was. He pushed her head away lightly and, taking her hands in his, he replaced her face with the sharp corners of her fingernails. It was only when she attempted to slide her mouth under the bed covers that he drew her back up to him. “You smell,” he kissed her deeply, his tongue plunging into her mouth as she wiggled against him, “like a dog in heat.”
But only for a moment.
“My, you do have a way of sweet talking a woman.” She smiled innocently but her nails raked lightly against his flesh, letting him know her intent had still not changed. “How exactly should I take that?”
That she had not run off like he intended caught him off guard and his defenses plummeted. He could withstand her no longer and he moved swiftly, rolling her off his lap and onto the bed, the sheets twisting restrictively around their arms and legs. They thrashed about wildly in an effort to free themselves, a desperate hunger to have their flesh meet consuming them both.
Hours later, they dropped into a tangled heap of body parts, neither having quite enough breath to say anything for several moments. A dank odor of wild sex, sweat and almost sickeningly sweet peppermint permeated the room, their smells and breathing patterns now intermingled beyond division.
Sirius offered her a weak and exhausted smile. “Take it however you like.”
She ruffled his hair playfully, laughing as he fought to stroke it back into place on his head. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”
He sighed contentedly, unable to wipe the grin from his face. Leaning across her naked form, he poured himself a glass of water, her fingers following the muscles in his arms as he moved. He paused to kiss her then dropped once again to the pillows. He downed half the glass in a swallow then offered the rest to Hermione. She sipped it slowly, her eyes peering at him over the glass.
His eyes fluttered--whether from sleepiness or contentment she couldn’t tell-- and the red marks streaking across his chest gave her pause. There were teeth marks, too, and slight indentations that matched the crescent shape of her nails. She couldn’t remember ever being so violent in bed before and it gave her an immediate sense of gratification to know she had been able to match his passion blow for blow. Vaguely, she wondered if his mastery in bed was acquired by specific woman or if it was the result of many different encounters. Not that it mattered to her, but she had never been good at quelling her curiosity. Knowing he wouldn’t stand for any of her nonsensical questions made him an enigma and she couldn’t help but smile.
“What?” he asked, his perceptive eyes narrowing with the changes in her facial features.
She smiled, offered him the last sip of water, and then placed it carefully on the nightstand. “Ready for round two?”
It wasn’t as if they weren’t careful. They stayed at arms length whenever Juliette was present and made certain to keep their gestures friendly in front of others. A few unintended hand movements such as when Sirius would slip his hand to her waist or when she would squeeze his arm as she passed him in the doorway caused curious glances from Remus and Tonks but they were otherwise quite proud of their ability to keep their relationship a secret. For Sirius, being secretive was in his nature but Hermione found it thrilling to be a part of something that no one else had a clue about. Late at night, curled in each other’s arms after sex, the two would laugh and joke about close calls or passionate needy kisses stolen quickly when the potential for getting caught was high. Their initial fall had taken ages but now that they already succumbed, it seemed that neither could get enough of the other.
Their late night talks had resumed but something about their intimate stance had allowed both of them a chance to learn more about the other. With their defenses down, they talked of Harry and James, both finding comfort in the other. Hermione explained more about Ron and how they had fallen in love and, for his part, Sirius listened intently without telling her love was for fools. More often than not, though, they simply lay silently together, the dawn coming much too soon to quell their needs to be in each other’s arms. They avoided talking of Draco, although Sirius knew it was on her mind constantly. Sirius wanted her to understand that he would walk away whenever Draco returned but couldn’t quite figure out how to phrase it where it wouldn’t offend her. So they both avoided it, pretending that Draco’s return wasn’t becoming more imminent with each passing day.
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